


Sacrifice

by Aria6



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Human Sacrifice, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-04-07 18:07:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4272966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria6/pseuds/Aria6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiro is being held as a sacrifice to the gods. Grimmjow upsets that plan when he goes raiding and finds the pale slave. What will happen next? Well, sex of course! Might be a one-shot I haven't decided yet. Grimm/Shiro, past Grimm/Ichi</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This might be a one-shot, I haven't decided. Enjoy!

Shiro sat on his bed and listened to the screams.

He was all in favor of what was causing the screams. Just a few years ago, he wouldn't have been. But that was before he'd found out the truth about why he was receiving the sacred tattoos, the truth about what the priests intended to do with him. Since that moment he had been a prisoner. A powerful geas entrapped his mind, keeping him from pleasuring himself or ruining the sacred markings. A heavy band of iron around his neck entrapped his body, keeping him from leaving the room. All so he could be flayed to death, the sacred symbols removed with due care and solemnity.

Shiro sniffed the air as he caught the aroma of smoke and frowned. While he wasn't eager to meet his end as a sacrifice being burned to death didn't sound a lot better. But then a stranger kicked down the door to his room. Shiro blinked as he beheld the man. He looked like a normal enough man, but his sword and armoring were strange. Of course, the priests didn't use edged weapons. They limited themselves to flails, maces and staves, things that were meant to kill without letting blood. It often didn't work out that way but that was the idea. The man exclaimed in surprise and Shiro just shrugged to himself. No doubt he was very strange to the fellow. After all, it was his odd looks that had made the priests take him in the first place.

But there was nothing he could do. He couldn't understand a word the stranger was saying and when he disappeared, Shiro couldn't follow.

He could only await his fate.

* * *

"Milord Wizard!" Grimmjow grimaced as one of his men skidded to a halt in front of him. He wasn't a real noble and would vastly have preferred they left off the Milord but it seemed like the men were just unable to do it. It probably had to do with his prowess as a wizard. Wizards were rare and held in awe among the common folk. "Milord Wizard, there's a demon chained up in one of the rooms!"

"Eh?" That got his attention and he sent his senses outwards, questing for demonic energies. Then he scowled at the man. "Bullshit! There's nothing demonic here." He scowled at the man, who seemed to be sweating with fear.

"Milord! He's all white, like a ghost!" The man babbled and Grimmjow's scowl lightened slightly. All white? That sounded interesting.

"Take me to him." He ordered and the mercenary hastened to obey. Sniffing the air he caught the smell of smoke. "Idiots." He muttered. Raiders were constantly setting things on fire, it seemed to be a compulsion. "At least let us loot the place first – hoi!" He stopped dead as he saw the boy sitting on the bed. The lad looked up at him, black and gold eyes filled with suspicion and wariness. Grimmjow looked him over, fascinated.

He could see why his man had assumed the boy was a demon. He was white as snow, his hair and his skin both. If that wasn't enough his eyes were black and gold. Then, just to put the cap on it, someone had tattooed the boy. There was a black pattern branching from the corner of his left eye, creating a lovely, flowing black design on dead white skin. Grimmjow reached out to touch it and felt a tingle in his finger as he touched the boy… no, man. This was no child, it was a young man.

"He's not demon but he's bespelled. A slave, most likely." The collar and stout chain holding the man seemed to indicate that and the tingle spoke of magic. Concentrating, he made out the presence of a very strong binding spell. "Yes, he's under a geas. Can you understand me, lad?" He asked but the boy just stared at him. "No. We'll have to figure him out later. Give me your axe." One of his guardsmen handed over a weapon and he enfolded it in a bit of magic before hacking the chain off. "Get him to the ship and treat him like any other slave." That meant be cautious. Slaves were almost uniformly desperate to escape. "But don't damage him." This man interested him, deeply. Grimmjow looked into black and gold eyes again and felt a stirring of desire and also a small pain. Despite his dramatic coloring, there was a resemblance to… him. Thrusting that painful thought aside Grimmjow turned away. He needed to supervise the looting before the fire got out of hand.

He hadn't come all this way to lose his treasure to a fire.

* * *

Shiro sat on the floor of his new prison, watching as some of the younger priests and acolytes were dragged in to join him. He smirked to himself as they protested, their wrists and feet shackled onto the wood of the ship. It seemed these strangers were slavers, or at least opportunists. They would sell everything they could.

Paradoxically, he was freer than the priests and acolytes. The collar around his neck would take a blacksmith to remove and the strangers hadn't bothered. They'd just nailed the end of the chain to the wall and tied his wrists together, but otherwise left him alone. He was even moderately comfortable, sitting on the straw.

Shiro wasn't sure what would happen to him but he assumed it would better than his other fate. His time had been close to running out. The priests had been waiting for his eighteenth birthday, which was only a few months away. These strangers seemed to have absolutely no reverence for the priests and their gods, so he would at least be spared that.

He looked up sharply as the blue haired man came back down into the hold. Shiro gazed into his face, appreciating his beauty in an abstract sort of way. He couldn't feel anything more. The geas on his mind ensured it. The man regarded him for a moment before using a hammer to pull out the nail holding his chain to the wall. Then he gripped the chain and said something. Shiro couldn't understand a word he was saying but he got the idea and stood, following the blue man out of the hold.

_Is he going to fuck me?_ Shiro wondered with a mix of fear and hope. Fear because if the geas wasn't removed it would be tolerable at best, painful at worst. He would take no pleasure from it. Hope because if this mercenary stuck his dick into him, he would be tainted, unworthy of the gods. Shiro quickly decided that he was willing to endure some pain for that. Anything to avoid being skinned alive.

Soon he was taken into the man's room. Given that it was a ship everything was bolted to the floor but it was still a luxurious cabin. Shiro tentatively decided that this man had to be very high among the raiders, likely the commander. Then a hand ran down his back, touching bare skin and he gasped. He felt something trying to respond, in the dark recesses of his mind, but the geas snuffed it out and he almost whined in frustration. He wanted to _feel!_

Then there was a hand on his shoulder and the man made him sit on the bed. Shiro met blue eyes and saw something unexpected in them. Concern? The man began talking but it didn't look like he was speaking to him. What he was saying sounded rhythmic, almost like a chant. What could he…?

Shiro grit his teeth and groaned as he felt the magic on him falter and tear. It hurt after so long, hurt like fire, but he embraced the pain. _He's removing the geas! Is he a priest?_ To his knowledge only priests practiced magic, but somehow he couldn't picture this man as the devotee of any god. The chant came to an end and Shiro sobbed as he felt the magic lift. For the first time in years he felt… whole.

"Thank you." He said to the man who smiled and slid a hand behind his head, gently tangling his fingers in long white hair. "Ah…" Shiro moaned, his eyes half-closing as the raging power of _feeling_ was unleashed. It felt like glorious warmth, running from his toes to his hairline. And that hand, sliding through his hair and lightly brushing his skin, was the cause of it. There was a soft chuckle and Shiro stiffened as warm lips covered his own.

If the hand in his hair had ignited his long dormant desire, this contact rose it to an inferno. Shiro was awkward, completely new to the experience but more than willing to participate. The other man guided him, showing him how it was done and Shiro felt only gratitude. For the first time in his life, he was feeling desire. He wanted this, more than anything.

He was wearing a pure white linen robe, the traditional garment. It quickly came off and Shiro looked up shyly as he heard the man exclaim in surprise. A pale hand, colorful compared to his dead white skin, stroked his tattoos. The marks on his body put the ones on his face to shame. There was a black circle in the centre of his chest, with lines radiating outwards from it. _The spot where they would have stabbed me, killed me, after all the other marks were removed._ Shiro shoved that thought away and arched with a soft moan as the man stroked the mystical symbols on his abdomen. There were more tattoos all across his back, his shoulders and legs. He was damn near covered with the things, which had made what the priests had planned even more horrifying.

But now, the tattoos were a boon. The stranger with the blue hair moved down his body, slowly licking the black markings on his chest and pausing to tease his nipples. Shiro gasped as pleasure jolted through him, pooling in his groin and pulling a wanton moan from his throat. The man said something in an amused tone and Shiro blushed lightly, looking at him through his eyelashes. He wished he knew what the man was saying.

But body language was enough and he kept making his way down, pausing to trace all the patterns on Shiro's stomach before kissing the firm, toned flesh. Shiro gasped raggedly and bit the knuckled of his hand as the man spread his legs with his hands before giving him a wicked grin.

_Holy shit!_ Shiro arched off the bed with a muffled cry as the man took him in his mouth. The heat, the wetness, the suction was just… "Yes. Yes!" Shiro moaned, repeating the word over and over as the blue man fondled his balls then slowly worked a finger into his ass. Shiro whimpered at the faint sting but any pain was quickly overwhelmed by pleasure. His body had been denied for far too long, he needed this, wanted this…

And he was going to get it. The man let go of his cock with a small pop, making Shiro whimper at the loss. He was vaguely aware that there were two fingers inside him and the man was using grease? Something to make it easier. And those fingers kept brushing against something that sent more pleasure through him, making little pearly beads drip from the head of his swollen member. Shiro glanced down and was shocked to see how big it was. He'd never seen himself aroused before. A third finger joined the first two and he groaned in discomfort at the stretch. But it was only discomfort and that, he could easily endure. He wanted to leave his virginity behind.

As if sensing his thoughts, the blue man slid up his body. Shiro looked into his face and saw intent blue eyes, a wicked grin. Warm hands gripped his thighs and Shiro swallowed in anticipation as the stranger lined his cock up with his ass. Then he was going inside, pushing past that tight right of muscle and Shiro made a stuttering cry. That hurt but it felt good at the same time. The man paused, giving him time to adjust to the feeling. Then he slowly began to move.

Shiro panted and moaned, his body shaking like a leaf as the stranger took him. The thick, hot cock abused his insides in all the right ways, rubbing against that spot inside him that made sparks fly and tiny splashes of cum leak onto his belly. Shiro's lips were caught again, his whimpers swallowed by the stranger fucking him. And for this brief moment, Shiro felt an immense gratitude towards the blue man. He had nothing to measure it against but how could sex get any better than this?

Shiro felt himself coming towards the edge, heading toward some kind of completion. His young, untouched body couldn't hold back. A particularly hard thrust sent him over the edge and thick, heavy cum sprayed across his belly and chest. Shiro moaned softly, feeling incredibly tired and sated. The man above him paused and the pale lad looked up, surprised. He could feel the stranger still hard inside him. What was he…?

Then the man pulled out of him, grinning wickedly, and gripped his shoulder. Shiro had time to make a confused sound before he was pulled onto his stomach. Then the man plunged back inside and he arched with a gasp, black and gold eyes going wide. It was so soon after his release but he still felt himself getting hard. His young body, that had been denied even wet dreams and masturbation, was desperate for sex. Shiro tossed his head back with a moan as a hot hand encircled his cock, stroking him to fully upright.

"Feels so good. Fuck me harder!" He begged, knowing the other man wouldn't understand. But it hardly mattered, he was getting fucked hard anyway. A rough voice, heavy with sex, said something in his ear and Shiro gasped, reacting strongly to the tone. He could be reciting a grocery list for all he knew but it didn't matter. That tone was pure sex. "Oh!" The man reached a bit lower and found his balls, giving the heavy flesh a gentle squeeze. Shiro whimpered, his eyes screwing shut as he felt a second orgasm coming over him. "Sh-shit, uh, ah!" That hand was on his cock again, stroking and squeezing in time with the dick inside his ass. He felt like he was full to bursting, ready to explode. "YES!" He cried out as a second moment of pleasure rolled over him. More cum spurted out, staining the bedsheets. Shiro closed his eyes, just experiencing the moment, hearing the man over him grunt and jerk. He felt hot seed spill into his body and marvelled for a moment at how _right_ it was. This was what his body had been begging for, for so long.

Utterly exhausted, he slipped onto his side, avoiding the wet spot on the bed. The man above him chuckled and Shiro closed his eyes, feeling incredibly tired. But he opened them as his body was touched with a cloth, wiping away the cum and sweat. And it turned out the top blanket on the bed was actually something meant for sex. The man pulled it away, tossed it into a corner and Shiro was able to slip under a real blanket. He heard the tinkle of chains and looked up to see the stranger was fixing the end of his chain to a loop that was part of the bed. After a moment of thought, Shiro decided he didn't care. Of course he was a slave to these strangers. How could he not be? But being a slave was infinitely preferable to being a sacrifice. And now, he couldn't be a sacrifice ever again. He was tainted, unclean. The thought made him smile as he drifted away to sleep.

Being unclean had never felt so good.

* * *

Grimmjow settled into the bed beside his pale slave, marvelling as he watched the man drop into an easy sleep.

He'd taken many slaves, over the years. He was notorious for enjoying the company of other men but it wasn't exactly socially acceptable. He only got away with it because he was an excellent swordsman and powerful wizard. Even the most unruly of his folk had better sense than to challenge him.

That didn't hold true of his lovers, though. After a very unpleasant incident Grimmjow had confined his attentions to slaves. To most warriors, slaves were beneath notice, existing only to be used. And while they would never admit it, plenty of men had sodomized a slave or two. It was just the way of things.

Still, he'd never had a slave be so responsive immediately. Even with… him, he'd had to coax, work the man past his initial resistance to the idea. But not with this one. Maybe it had been a backlash from releasing the geas but the boy had practically fallen into his arms. Grimmjow smiled as he looked into the white face, seeing the resemblance again. It hurt, it truly did, but it was also good.

"Ichigo." He whispered the name of his lost lover. He was probably still alive, somewhere. Grimmjow had no idea and didn't want to know. _If you love something you have to let it go._ He flinched a little as he remembered those words. They sounded so right, and yet it had all gone so wrong. "I'm never letting you go. Never." He said to the pale man beside him, reaching out to rest his thumb against the boy's bottom lip. He could feel the warm breath, watch the rise and fall of his chest. "Never." He whispered before sliding down beside the pale man and holding him close.

He wouldn't make that mistake a second time.


	2. Superstitions

Shiro watched curiously as his 'master' put a bowl on the table and filled it with water.

The bowl was unusual. It was fine silver, polished to a mirror like shine. At first he thought the man just meant to wash himself but after pouring the water in, he put in three very tiny, paper boats. Shiro's eyes widened as the man began to chant again, watching the boats carefully. After a few moments the boats began to bob, the water turning into tiny waves. He stared in awe as little clouds began to form over the bowl and there was a tiny flash of lightning. Then one of the boats vanished, pulled under the water.

The blue man said something that had to be a curse and grabbed the bowl, taking it out of the room. Shiro watched with deep interest as he came back with an empty bowl and began the process all over again, with a new set of little boats. This time the auguries were more favorable, with the little boats encountering no problems. The blue haired man nodded, satisfied, and glanced at him. He frowned and Shiro wondered what he was thinking. But he went back to his work, carrying the bowl out again. Shiro thought he was likely dumping the water overboard.

When he came back, though, there was no more magic. Instead he unhooked the chain from the bed and gave the pale slave some clothes. Pants and a shirt, nothing like the pure linens he'd always worn and Shiro pulled them on gratefully. He wanted nothing to connect him to his past. Then the stranger gripped the chain, leading him out. Shiro wished he could get rid of that too, but even if he wanted to the blue man likely couldn't. There wouldn't be a blacksmith on the ship.

As the blue man led him out Shiro took the chance to look around. He'd never seen a ship before. It was made of wood, of course, kept very clean. There were iron lanterns on the walls, bolted tight to avoid letting the slightest spark free. The stranger brought him to a room where a man was hacking at a large piece of meat. They conversed for a moment and Shiro was pushed into a chair as the man grabbed a pair of scissors.

What followed next was a quick cutting of his hair. Shiro wasn't sure he liked that, but he'd noticed that these strangers all kept their hair short. Perhaps it would be better to fit in a little. When the barber was done the blue man smiled and fluffed his hair, saying something in a teasing tone. Shiro wished, not for the first time, that he could understand him. Then the barber said something in a crabby tone and the blue man laughed, taking hold of his chain again. Shiro followed obediently and blinked as he was brought to the mess hall.

It was pretty clear what it was. Men were laughing and feasting on things clearly captured from temple. Shiro himself had always been kept on a strict diet to ensure his cleanliness. No red meat had touched his lips, but now he found a steak being shoved onto his plate. He was given a knife to cut it with and started in on it with gusto. It was tough but extremely flavorful, much better than the largely vegetarian fare the temple had given him.

The blue man tapped him on the shoulder and Shiro looked up enquiringly. He smiled and rested a hand on his chest before saying a word. The pale man blinked before trying to say it back to him. It took him a few tries to get it right, it was like nothing he'd ever heard before.

"Grimmjow." Now he knew the stranger's name. He rested a hand on his own chest, returning the favor. "Shiro." The blue man said it easily and Shiro smiled, looking at him shyly. It was early to tell but he thought he really liked Grimmjow.

After that, though, he was put to work. Shiro didn't mind. He quickly learned the basics of swabbing the deck and began cleaning it, wrapping the chain around one arm to keep it out of the way. Feeling eyes on him he glanced up and saw Grimmjow watching. The blue man gave him a small smile before vanishing back into the ship. Shiro shrugged to himself before going back to his work.

If he made himself useful, he might have a better chance of being accepted among these people.

* * *

Grimmjow sighed to himself as he walked back to his rooms.

He was essentially the commander of the little flotilla. He was a competent seaman but no ships' captain, so he left that to the professionals. The overall strategy and larger decisions were his, and determining when and where to set sail was among the largest of his duties.

His magics said that leaving immediately would bring them to disaster. One ship would be lost and he damned well wasn't going to chance that it would be the one he was on. So after cleansing the room he'd recast the spell, and the prospects for sailing in three days time were favorable. All they had to worry about in the meantime was the natives, and they would have to keep a watch out for that. But they could hunt and feast on the captured animals they'd taken. Temples always did offer the best loot.

Grimmjow's thoughts strayed back to his pale slave and he couldn't help the pain that hit him again. He really hadn't wanted to crop the man's hair short, but there'd been little choice. The one loot they were lacking was women. The temple they'd attacked had been strictly male and the men were complaining a bit about the lack of opportunities. Grimmjow knew soldiers and his men were a touch unsavory even by the usual standards. With his long hair, Shiro had looked all too feminine. Someone might decide he was an acceptable substitute and then things would get ugly. It was better to cut it off, even if it did enhance his resemblance to… him.

Shoving that thought aside, Grimmjow used his magic to send a quick message to the other ships. The captain's were all a bit frightened of the way he had marked them and could speak in their ears, but they had to admit that it made for excellent communications. Grimmjow smirked a little to himself as he thought of it.

The temple they'd raided had actually been fairly well defended. But they'd placed too much faith in their magic, confident that the infidel sea raiders would not be able to penetrate the wards. And if Grimmjow hadn't been there they would have been right. But his magic was truly potent and he believed in no gods. A fact he hid from his own men. They might be unsavory but many of them were quite fervent in their beliefs. Of course, the worship of Odakka had no problems with slaughtering unbelievers…

Sighing to himself, Grimmjow opened the door to the treasure room. His next duty was to start tallying the loot and portioning it out. He was the only one trusted to do it. His reputation for fairness in such matters was spotless, and for good reason. Grimmjow believed in treating allies fairly no matter how little he might like them.

It wasn't long before he was deeply engrossed in his work. What he had in this room was the precious metals and jewels, things he couldn't trust underlings around. But he also had lists of other property they'd taken, things like fine silks, spices and slaves. The food and other provisioning were included as well, but those would simply be used. His men would eat well for a time on the return leg. There was also a list of odd, miscellaneous things and the blue man lifted his eyebrows at one entry.

"A box of chocolate? Really? Where is it?" Grimmjow asked out loud before looking through the room. Sure enough, someone had stuck it in a drawer. "Huh!" Chocolate was ridiculously expensive. However, when he opened it he found it was already half-eaten. "Hah." He noted it as half-ruined and worth only a few silver, then claimed it for himself. Half-eaten or not, he'd finish it. Maybe share a bit with the captain and Shiro while he was at it. "Hm." Most of the slaves were pre-valued but Shiro was on the list too, with a big question mark beside his 'white demon' description. Grinning, Grimmjow valued him at a gold. That made him an expensive slave but it was high enough that no one would dispute it when he took the pale man as part of his share.

When he was half-done the tally Grimmjow was sure he would be able to pay off all his debts with a comfortable cushion. He hadn't funded and led this expedition out of simple greed. He was a wealthy man but he'd miscalculated slightly. Some of his investments weren't doing as well as he'd hoped and the greedy moneylenders were asking for some truly outrageous interest. This would clean off his slate and give his investments time to recover. The moneylenders would be disappointed but who gave a fig about them?

"Milord Wizard? The captain wants to see you." Grimmjow glanced up with a frown as one of the men interrupted his work. Scowling, he set aside the accounts and went to see what was going on. From the look on the man's face it was something he probably wouldn't like.

"Milord Wizard?" The captain was surrounded with three of his best men, the highest ranked sailors on the ship. "Were you aware that the white boy you've claimed was meant to be a sacrifice to the god of these people?" He said, getting right to the point. Grimmjow frowned, wondering why this warranted a meeting.

"No. What of it?" He asked. He wasn't too surprised they'd found out something like that. Shiro might not speak their language but the trade tongue was fairly widespread. Shiro couldn't speak that either, but he'd clearly been kept sequestered. Some of the priests would know it. There was a heavy silence and Grimmjow's eyes narrowed. "You can't be serious." Of course they were. Sailors were a superstitious lot, which only made sense really. They were at the mercy of the gods all the time, praying that a storm wouldn't destroy them.

"It only seems right to give the gods what their due." One of the men said nervously and Grimmjow suppressed the desire to punch him in the face. Instead he applied his mind to logic.

"First off, they're not our gods. If you sacrifice the boy to his own heathen deities you might offend Odakka." He said which made the man exchange a glance. "And as for sacrificing him to Odakka, he's not the kind of offering our god enjoys. He's an unblooded boy, never even seen combat." Their god favored the sacrifice of warriors, preferably with an impressive list of accomplishments. "However, I do agree that the god deserves his due." Grimmjow said in a conciliatory tone. He knew how to play this. "We should sacrifice several of the captured warriors, the ones who fought well against us, towards him." That was a common practice and the men in front of him brightened.

"That's good." The captain said, clearly relieved. Grimmjow could guess why. He really hadn't wanted a confrontation with the wizard, but letting the men grumble and worry each other was nearly as bad. This would calm the men and they would see the logic in it. "We'll do that. How many, do you think? Three?" He asked and it was quickly decided that three of their new slaves would go to see the god tomorrow, one for each ship. With everything settled, Grimmjow left them to go back to his work. It didn't bother him a bit that he'd just sentenced three men to a nasty death. One of the priests must have run his mouth about their sacrificial victim. He only wished he could find that man in particular and make sure he fed the fish.

He damned well deserved it.

* * *

Shiro watched the sacrifices the next day with empty eyes.

He felt nothing for the priests. The years of fear and anticipation he'd suffered had made certain of that. And their deaths were much faster than what they'd planned for him. After a bit of chanting and an offering of blood and gold from the most prominent man on the ship – Grimmjow for this one – the sacrifice was stabbed through the heart with a spear. Then the heart was removed and placed on a charcoal brazier as the body was tossed overboard, given to the sea. There were cheers from the men as the heart sizzled on the coals. When it was done Shiro turned away, going back to his work. Right now, one of the seamen was teaching him the art of knots.

The man was also teaching them their language, although that was largely incidental. Surrounded by people who spoke another tongue, Shiro was already starting to pick it up. He'd always had an agile mind although he hadn't been able to use it much. The priests had educated him – only the best for the gods – but after he'd found out the truth, they hadn't given him much. A book or two to read, sometimes, but that had been all.

Shiro smiled as he worked on the knots, learning the ways of the ship. He was enjoying this. The only danger for him was sunburn and he'd been issued a good shirt and hat to help prevent that. His white skin burned horribly and never tanned.

Lunch was a bit of bread and cheese, enough to keep them going. Supper was the high point of the day and Shiro got to taste mutton. It had been stewed all day and was wonderfully tender and flavorful. He savored every bite and wished he could tell the cook how good it was, but he didn't have the words yet.

Of course, the real high point of the day came after that. They went to bed with the setting sun, and Shiro went to Grimmjow's room without question. He knew the blue man would want him there and he was right. Although…

"Hurts." He said, touching his backside. He was quite sore there. Grimmjow looked confused. "Hurts?" He hoped that was what he was saying. Then Grimmjow grinned and corrected his pronunciation.

"Yes, I ****" The last word was something Shiro didn't know. But he could guess the meaning. _Yes, I know._ Grimmjow said something completely incomprehensible then, but the tone was reassuring. Then he began to strip off his clothing and the pale slave followed suit, watching as that beautifully toned, tanned body was revealed. Grimmjow was incredibly handsome. Just the thought of those hands on him made his dick stir.

It did more than stir a moment later, as the other man sat him down on the bed. Grimmjow knelt in front of him and favored him with a grin, to Shiro's confusion. Then the blue man moved forward and black and gold eyes went wide as a hot mouth enfolded his cock.

_Holy shit! Is he really?!_ Shiro bit his hand, holding back a groan as a sinful tongue teased him, a delicious suction tormented him. _Can't believe this._ He knew about such things but he'd always thought this was a submissive act. No priest would lower himself to sucking off a novice, let alone a slave! Then his eyes rolled back as the blue man gripped his balls, playing with them and rolling them in his hands.

Shiro was starting to learn control, though, and he didn't want to have this pleasure end too quickly. So he held back his release, deeply enjoying the sensations Grimmjow was giving him. At first he wrapped his hands in the blankets, not daring to touch the blue man, but then he rested them on his shoulders, mutely urging him on. The way his tongue was moving, stroking him from base to tip… the incredible tightness of his throat, squeezing his cock so firmly… Shiro let out a soft whine, closing his eyes. He was enjoying this so much.

The end finally came and Shiro cried out as he released. Grimmjow didn't pull away, swallowing every bit of it before letting go of him with a small pop. Shiro looked down, utterly speechless, and blushed at the wicked grin the man was giving him. Then he blinked as he was pulled off the bed and Grimmjow took his place, sitting on the edge of the mattress.

_Oh._ Shiro blushed as he knelt obediently, examining the erection in front of his face. It seemed that blowing him off had been an arousing experience for the other man. He hesitantly licked him, curious about what it would taste like. _It doesn't taste like much of anything, really._ Emboldened by that, Shiro took the blue man in his mouth. He wasn't sure if he could do this as well as Grimmjow had, but he was definitely going to try.

If there were any complaints with his technique, he couldn't understand them. The sounds Grimmjow was making didn't sound like complaints anyway. It was mostly soft moans, sounds of pleasure and Shiro made it a game to pull out as many as he could. He discovered that Grimmjow loved having his balls played with and he exploited that, cupping the firm flesh as he kept up a good, strong suction. He tried to wrap his tongue around the length but couldn't manage it as well as Grimm had. It didn't matter though. He would get better in time.

It took quite a while to get Grimmjow off, but the blue man was older and more experienced. He said something in a warning tone and that gave Shiro the time he needed to prepare. When Grimmjow released he tried to swallow it, but there was just too much. He pulled back, coughing, white liquid sliding down the corner of his mouth. Shiro blinked, his eyes watering as Grimmjow drew him up. Then his eyes widened in surprise as the other man licked the trail of cum off his face and followed it with a deep, searching kiss. Shiro melted into that affection, enjoying the warmth and closeness with the other man. Then Grimmjow got up, pulling the sheets down. Feeling a bit wobbly and tired, Shiro joined him in bed. He snuggled up to the other man and he said a word he didn't understand, followed by his name. Shiro smiled to himself and replied with the same phrase.

"Goodnight Grimmjow." He was sure that was what it meant. Grimmjow grinned and ruffled his short hair for a moment before closing his eyes. Shiro followed suit, letting himself drift off to sleep.

This had been a wonderful day.


	3. An Unhappy Homecoming

Grimmjow watched with anticipation as the ship finally approached land.

It had been a good voyage, as such things went. The winds had favored them and they had made excellent time. Now they were pulling up to a small, sheltered cove. It was the closest harbor to his estates and held a reasonably prosperous fishing village. They were flying his flag, a silhouette of a blue panther on a white background, so instead of fleeing or readying themselves for battle the villagers came out to greet them.

Grimmjow felt a great relief as he finally put his feet back on shore. Ships were cramped and smelly at the best of times, although the sea winds did help a bit with that. Still, it was wonderful to finally be able to walk on solid ground. The villagers were friendly too, no doubt anticipating that after such a long voyage everyone would be eager to spend a bit of cash. And with Grimmjow around, any rowdiness would be contained. These were his people, he owned all this land. It was his duty to protect them, even from his own men.

Not that it was a problem. The party that erupted was good natured and carefree. The men quickly made up for their lack of women, finding the young village lasses were quite receptive to men with gold and silver to spend. Grimmjow had a few things to do, though, and the first was collaring the village blacksmith.

"Can you get this off him? It's a damned nuisance." Grimmjow said, glancing at Shiro. The pale lad was listening intently, clearly understanding a lot of what they were saying. A week wasn't long to learn a new language but he was trying very hard. He stood still as the blacksmith examined the collar, muttering and poking at it.

"Good, stout workmanship. I think I can get it off, Milord Wizard, but it will take a while." The man warned and Grimmjow nodded. "Could we do it tomorrow, mayhap?" He asked and Grimmjow grinned. He could tell the man wanted in on the festivities.

"That's fine, we were planning to stay a while anyway." They needed to get provisions for the ships. Now that his work with them was done and the loot was divvied up, Grimmjow would be returning to his estates with his loyal armsmen. The rest of the crew were hired hands and they would go on to whatever they wanted, which would probably be a trip to the capital to spend their hard earned money. Grimmjow knew from experience that they wouldn't hang onto it for long, except maybe the captains and top officers. Common sailors didn't save for the future.

So they went to enjoy the party. Grimmjow kept Shiro close to him, not that the pale slave was showing any inclination to stray. He just didn't want anything to happen to the young man. Grimmow smiled to himself as he sat down beside the fire, taking a drink of his wine and resting a hand on Shiro's hip. The white slave leaned against him, smiling. He took a drink from his cup before regarding it with a surprised expression.

"What is?" He asked and Grimmjow glanced into his cup. There were several different drinks going around but the ruby color told him the identity of this one.

"Wine." He said and Shiro repeated the word. "You never had?" He asked and the young man shook his head.

"No, only beer." He'd learned the word for that and Grimmjow nodded. Light beer was the easiest way to ensure water safety so the priests would undoubtedly have had it. It was nearly impossible to get drunk on, though, unlike the wine. "It good." He said, taking another drink. Grimmjow chuckled softly.

"It is good." He corrected and Shiro smiled, repeating the phrase. The words were coming to him but grammar was taking longer. A villager passed them some roasted fish and Grimmjow took it with a smile, passing half of it on to Shiro. He bit in with gusto, eating with a teenage appetite.

Grimmjow spent the rest of the party drinking, chatting with the men and quietly admiring Shiro. The way the fire illuminated his pale skin, the stark contrast of the tattoos… he was striking, there was no doubt about it. He caught the pale man occasionally glancing at him and fancied he saw a similar admiration in his eyes. Of course, he knew better than to get his hopes up. He could still remember smoldering brown eyes, the warmth in his smile… but it hadn't meant anything in the end.

Flinching away from that painful thought he took a too large gulp of his wine and coughed as it went down wrong, burning like fire. Shiro made a worried sound and gripped his arm but he managed a smile, massaging his throat.

"It will pass." He assured the other man who bit his lip before nodding. His voice sounded awful even to himself and Grimmjow cleared his throat, rubbing it again before taking a much smaller sip of the wine. That helped soothe the burn and at least the pain had taken his mind away from… him. There was more laughter and passing of food. Grimmjow and Shiro both received rolls with cheese and bowls of seaweed soup. Then some music started and Grimmjow lifted his head, joining his voice in the ancient song. He had an excellent singing voice, he always had.

"Beautiful." Shiro murmured when the song was done and Grimmjow wondered where he'd picked up that word. The wonder in his voice was very flattering and he smiled, gently running a hand down the pale man's back. He wanted to kiss the lad but knew better. His people might ignore his foibles but it was still better not to be too affectionate in public. A storyteller stepped up to the fire and they both listened to the Saga of Erisdawl. He was a good storyteller and it was quite entertaining, although it was hard to say how much Shiro understood.

It was late when they went to their bed, a small cottage that someone had vacated for them. Grimmjow grinned to himself as they stepped inside. Whatever villager had given it up had likely gone to bunk with relatives, and they would be well paid for the inconvenience.

"Sex?" Shiro asked hopefully as he began taking off his clothing and Grimmjow laughed, feeling very light and happy. He was drunk and he knew it but his pale slave wasn't sober either. He usually wasn't that direct.

"Why not?" He said playfully. Tonight was for fun and he and his men would be staying at the village until the provisions arrived. There was plenty of time for play and he wanted to get it in before they began to ride. It took long practice to get used to taking it up the ass and riding afterwards. Grimmjow wasn't always the dominant in his relationships so he knew that from experience. And speaking of riding…

"I want it different tonight." Maybe it was just the alcohol talking or maybe it was the vague resemblance to… him. But Grimmjow decided he was going to get something very different from his pale slave tonight. Although he would have to take control, Shiro was too inexperienced for anything else. "Lie on your back." He said in a throaty tone and Shiro immediately obeyed, his strange eyes wide with anticipation. The bed was nice and sturdy and Grimmjow disrobed, climbing on after him. He eyed that pure white cock, already upright and saluting before going down on it, drawing a stuttering groan out of Shiro's mouth.

His objective wasn't to get the pale man off, though. He was just getting plenty of saliva on that hard length. As he did he got busy with the oil, parting his own cheeks and preparing himself. It had been a long, long time since he'd done it and it stung more than a bit. But he accepted the burn as the price of the pleasure and took his time, making sure he was stretched. He let go of Shiro's cock, letting him calm down a bit as he shoved three fingers inside himself. Grimmjow hissed a little at the feeling and grinned as Shiro made a confused sound.

"What… oh!" Shiro's eyes were wide as he watched the blue man grip his cock then lower himself, taking the pale slave inside his body. Grimmjow gasped as he was stretched in an oh, so familiar way. It had been so long since he had done this but he knew it. Yes, he most definitely did. "Grimmjow!" Shiro's voice was breathless and the wizard grinned, meeting those inverted eyes.

"Yes." He purred before beginning to move. Shiro followed his lead, shuddering a little at the ecstasy running through him. White hands gripped his hips, pulling him against the albino as he thrust up again and again. Grimmjow moaned as the white man brushed his prostate. "Fuck yes!" He deliberately adjusted his hips and the next thrust hit that sensitive button of flesh, leaving the blue man breathless. Pearly beads of precum splashed against Shiro's belly, sliding from his weeping shaft, and a white hand closed on the hard flesh. Grimmjow's breath caught in his throat as Shiro used the cum to moisten his length and began jerking him off. The feel of that hot hand on his body, along with the length tormenting him from the inside…

Grimmjow savored every moment of the intercourse, watching Shiro's eyes glaze over with pleasure as fine beads of sweat beaded on that pale skin. He ran his hands over intricate, glorious tattoos, feeling the tight muscles and the fine body that lay beneath. The soft pants, the little gasps, it was all perfect. The hot cock inside his body, the hands that were squeezing now, moving faster and faster… it all added up to bliss. Grimmjow threw his head back as it flashed over into something more and his body clamped down on Shiro, hard. The albino almost screamed as he came and Grimmjow shuddered, feeling the power of their mutual orgasm. They were both left breathless and staring at each other as the aftershocks slowly died away.

"Grimmjow." Shiro sounded blissful, utterly content. Grimmjow smiled at the tone and kissed the pale slave, slow and tender. Shiro nuzzled his cheek when they were done, his eyes drooping as the wine and the exertions caught up with him. Grimmjow chuckled warmly before pulling away, letting the albino slide out of his body.

"Sleep. I'll take care of the mess." He advised the pale man and Shiro nodded, closing his eyes. When Grimmjow came back with a rag he was fast asleep. He smiled, cleaning them both off before sliding into bed beside his pale lover. He put an arm around him and hoped he wouldn't dream of… him. Sighing to himself, he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on Shiro, the warmth and scent of his new lover.

If dreams came, he didn't remember them.

* * *

Shiro looked at the castle with wide eyes.

Until now, he'd only read about castles. Now he was actually seeing one, although it wasn't a very large one. It was situated on the top of a raised hill, the area around it kept swept clean of trees and tall grasses. The walls were good and strong, promising a nasty time for anyone who dared attack. There was a call as they were spotted but he couldn't make out the words. The pennants they were flying easily marked them as friendly, though, and the gates were opening even as they rode up the hill.

_Wow._ Shiro decided quickly that he liked this place. It was made out of heavy grey stone and had a very solid feeling. It vaguely reminded him of his families' home, before they'd given him to the priests. He bit his lip, looking down at his horses' ears. It wasn't their fault. He could only vaguely remember them but he knew his mother had loved him, could just barely recollect her laughing at him when he did something spectacularly silly. Shiro could remember her telling him to be good when she gave him to the priests. She'd probably thought he was going to be a novice, well fed and cared for. Why would they tell her the truth when a lie was so easy?

Pushing aside the memories, Shiro climbed off his horse, wincing faintly in pain. His body ached in places he'd never known existed before. Riding a horse was a skill he was just mastering and it was uncomfortable, to say the least. A warm hand gripped his shoulder and Shiro looked over to see Grimmjow smiling at him. A groom came to take the horse but Shiro hardly noticed, blushing lightly under those warm blue eyes.

"Your new home." He said and Shiro nodded, feeling warmed by that. He was still a slave – he was wearing a slender gold chain around his neck to symbolize that – but he didn't care. He couldn't go back to his family without drawing the priests down on them, if he could even find them, which he likely couldn't. This was his home.

Grimmjow had an arm around his waist when a woman suddenly ran out of a nearby door. Shiro looked at her curiously. She had long green hair and a terrible scar, running through her hair and partly down across her forehead. Her eyes widened and he stared as her face took on a horrified cast. Grimmjow abruptly stiffened and let go of him.

The words that followed were simply too fast for him. Shiro could mostly understand as long as people took care to speak at a reasonable speed, but that was not what was happening now. And then Grimmjow was suddenly shouting. Shiro backed up, shocked by the anger and raw anguish he could hear in the man's voice as he gripped the green haired woman's shoulders and shook her. She burst into tears and tried to pull away. He let go of her and she ran, still sobbing. Shiro felt his gorge rise as he tried to make sense of the situation.

_Was that his wife?_ Was that why she was so upset that Grimmjow had his hand on him? But Grimm hadn't so much as glanced at a woman in the time they'd been together. He seemed completely indifferent and none of the women did more than look at him, despite his good looks. Grimmjow put his hand over his face, his shoulders down and his body tight with tension. Shiro wet his lips before gently touching his shoulder.

"Grimmjow?" He said quietly and the man looked up. There was so much pain in his face. "Who…?" Shiro looked after the departed woman and Grimmjow took a deep breath, letting it out before he forced a smile on his face. Shiro honestly wished he wouldn't, it looked like the farce it was.

"My ****." Grimmjow said and Shiro hesitated. He knew the word for wife so she wasn't that, but he didn't know what Grimmjow was saying. "My… girl brother?" He said and Shiro blinked.

"Sister!" He said in his own tongue and Grimmjow laughed before saying his word for it again. Shiro repeated it, committing it to memory. There were so many words he hadn't heard yet. "Why?" He asked, referring to, well, everything. Grimmjow hesitated before looking down, his momentary good humor draining away.

"It's ****." A long word that Shiro didn't understand. Grimmjow saw that and tried to simplify it. "Too hard. Not now… later, when you have more words." Shiro understood all of that and nodded. That made sense. At least she was his sister. If she'd been his wife, well, that would have been really awkward. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes." He said instantly. It had been a while since lunch and he was still young. Grimmjow smiled and took him inside the castle, giving a few orders to his servants. Soon they were comfortably ensconced in a sitting room and Shiro got to sample a selection of small, savory pastries. Grimmjow just looked out the window, looking depressed. Shiro inwardly resolved to keep working hard on the language. He didn't like not knowing what was going on. Grimmjow's sister had been so upset to see him, but why?

He would find out, hopefully soon.

* * *

As soon as Grimmjow saw the look on Nel's face, he knew there would be a scene.

Nel wasn't right. She hadn't been ever since a horse kicked her in the head at the tender age of four. He blamed his mother for being off in her own little world, the stableboys for not locking things properly, and the nurse for loosing track of her charge. He didn't blame the horse though. She'd just been a year old filly, what else do you do when something tiny and giggling grabs you on the leg but kick?

When Nel looked horrified he knew what she was thinking. And when her lip wobbled in that all too familiar way, he knew she was about to throw a fit. And she did not disappoint.

"Gwimm! Why you replacin' Itsygo?" Her eyes filled with tears and Grimmjow struggled to think of what to say. "That's not right! You love Itsygo! You can't replace Itsygo! We have to wait for Itsygo to get back – " And that was all he could take.

"Dammit Nel!" He grabbed her shoulders and shook her, even knowing it was cruel. But he couldn't help it. She was finding the raw part of his soul. "It's been seven years! He's not coming back!" He shouted in her face and she burst into tears. "We have to go on with our lives!"

"NO!" Nel jerked away and ran, and Grimmjow let her. Her attendant, a nun that he'd hired specifically from a monastery that specialized in caring for people who were… special… gave him an apologetic look before hurrying after Nel. Grimmjow sighed, resting his face in his hand. Why couldn't Nel give up? But time was different for her. She probably didn't realize how long it had been, even with the things she had to remind her.

"Grimmjow?" He looked up at his lover's voice and forced on a smile, trying to pull himself together. Shiro's question, though… he thought about explaining the whole situation with Shiro's still limited vocabulary and gave up.

"Later." He told the pale man and fortunately, he accepted that. Food was always an excellent distraction. As they sat by the window, though, he found he had no appetite. Grimmjow gazed out the window, noticing the view. This was a good spot, with a nice view of the gardens. They were blooming beautifully in the height of summer. But he couldn't appreciate it, not right now. Not when his mind was on… him. He didn't know why. He would never know why, and it hurt. _If you love something you need to let it go._ Grimmjow sighed to himself before looking at Shiro. The pale slave was munching on something with an expression of bliss. Grimmjow recognized the pastry as one of the ones filled with duck pate. They raised their own ducks here, so it wasn't as extravagant as it might have been. Smiling to himself he took a piece of puff pastry and nibbled at the edges. The taste soon kindled his hunger and helped him forget the pain.

After so long, he was a master at forgetting.


	4. Pantera

"DADDY!" Grimmjow looked up with a smile as a little boy ran up and hugged him tightly on the leg. "You're home! Daddy!"

"Yes I am." He said with a laugh, picking up the child and giving him a rough hug. The boy was only four years old and looked a good deal like him. "Have you been good, Pantera?" He asked and the boy nodded before squirming to look at Shiro. The pale man was watching, wide eyed.

"Wow! Is he a demon?" The boy sounded appropriately awed and Grimmjow laughed, running a hand through light blue hair.

"No more than you are." He said and the boy blinked, just examining the white man. Shiro examined him right back, clearly a little speechless. "He's my nephew. My sister's son." He said as Shiro frowned. A nurse ran up then, huffing and puffing a little. She was a heavyset woman and chasing after a very energetic child wore her out a touch.

"Sir! He got away from me, I'm terribly sorry." She sounded worried and rightfully so. Grimmjow could get very upset about that after what had happened to Nel. But he waved it away with a small smile.

"Just eager to see me. I would have gone to see him but I…" Grimmjow struggled for a moment to find a phrase for it. He'd known Pantera would be able to tell he was upset and the little boy would want to know why. "Was out of sorts. Has he been a good boy while I was gone?" He tickled Pantera, who giggled and wiggled happily. The nurse smiled, relieved that her master was not upset.

"Very good, sir. Of course he's had a few tantrums and such, but less than you might expect." She said with the ease of long experience. Grimmjow had picked her because she'd raised three children of her own and they'd all turned out well. She had a great deal of patience.

"Really good! Did you bring me something?" Pantera asked and Grimmjow laughed before fishing the last of the chocolates out of his pocket. The little boy grabbed it and popped it in his mouth, sticking it in his cheek like a squirrel. "Num!" He said happily and Grimmjow smiled, ruffling his hair.

"How's your mother been?" He asked and got a very imaginative account of what Nel and Pantera had been up to. He highly doubted they'd gone to see if the moon was really made of cheese. They probably had tried to open a hair salon, though. "Who did you give a haircut to?" He asked and Pantera pouted.

"No haircuts! Foot massages." He said firmly and Grimmjow grinned. "Mama liked it a lot."

"Yes, she would." Grimmjow smiled a little sadly as he regarded the boy. Right now, Nel was his best friend. How would that change when Pantera got older? Nel would live in a land of imagination forever but he would grow out of it. He resolved to himself, not for the first time, to make sure Pantera was kind to his mother. That was all he could really ask. "Want to go down to the river?" He asked as the nurse smiled. He really had plenty of things to do, but making time for his little boy was very important. Pantera nodded.

"White should come too!" He said, pointing at Shiro. Grimmjow could see that the pale slave had been a little lost, unable to follow the little boy's rapid fire chatter. The little one didn't enunciate clearly either, which would make it doubly difficult.

"Of course he should." Grimmjow agreed although he'd never have brought a slave with his boy before. But they hadn't interested Pantera… or even interested him too much, beyond their skills in bed. Shiro was different. His odd looks had captured his interest and his nephew's, too. It was more than that though. Shiro seemed so young. Grimmjow thought it was only partly his age… a lot of it was his lack of experience. Who knew how long the poor lad had been kept in that room, collared like a dog? He had no idea and the thought made him shiver a bit. But everything about Shiro inclined him to be gentle and considerate towards his new slave. Grimmjow smiled as Pantera jumped down and tugged on his hand. He stood, letting the boy pull him along as Shiro and the nurse followed.

He wasn't going to think about Shiro now. This time was for his boy.

* * *

Shiro adjusted his hat and watched his fishing pole, waiting for any sign of a fish. As he did he glanced at Grimmjow and Pantera. The little boy had a tiny fishing pole and was beaming as he thrashed it through the water, no doubt scaring any fish away. No one had the heart to tell him he wasn't doing it right. Then Pantera looked at him, bright blue eyes meeting black and gold.

"Why do you look like that?" He asked innocently and Shiro smiled before answering.

"I was born this way." He explained and the boy giggled. "Um?"

"You talk funny!" He chirped and Shiro felt his cheeks heating up. He did have an accent, he likely would for a long time. Grimmjow growled a little, displeased.

"Pantera, that's rude. Apologize." He said shortly and the boy looked surprised before looking at Shiro.

"Sorry." He said shyly and Shiro fought down his blush before smiling again.

"S'okay. I am from far away. Just learning to talk like you." He said carefully and the little boy smiled. It was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. Then suddenly Pantera rushed at him, hugging him tightly.

"Let's play tag!" He chirped and Shiro laughed before standing and chasing the little boy. "Wee!" They both had a great time, running around and just generally burning off energy. Shiro paused for a moment, glancing at Grimmjow and grinned. He'd taken the opportunity to fall asleep, his pole caught neatly between his legs. Shiro was willing to bet the fish had cleaned off the hook. He knelt down beside Pantera, pointing at Grimm.

"Maybe you should wake him up?" He asked and the little boy grinned. Then he ran over to his uncle and jumped right on his chest, making Grimmjow's eyes flare wide in surprise. He caught the little boy by the scruff of his neck, making Pantera giggle.

"Daddy! Shiro said I should wake you up!" He chirped and Shiro tried to look innocent as Grimmjow glared at him. The glare quickly turned into a smile, though, as he looked at the little boy.

"He did, hey? I bet you're both feeling hot. Want to take a swim?" He asked and Pantera nodded rapidly. His nurse glanced towards the castle before looking at Grimm and he nodded to her. She began trotting away and Shiro blinked, wondering what he'd missed. Then Grimmjow began disrobing and Shiro's attention was fixated on toned muscles and warm, tanned skin. "Well? You want to swim too?" He asked as he got down to his underthings and Shiro stared, shocked by the idea.

"I – I can't." He said haltingly, looking at the water. "I don't know how." He said as the blue man looked at him quizzically. He'd been too young when he'd left his mother and the priests had never taught him. There was a brief shock in those beautiful blue eyes, then gentle sympathy.

"You should learn. This land is full of rivers." He said and Shiro nodded. "Come, I'll show you." He said and Shiro blushed lightly before he began disrobing. He'd been provided with more clothing, simple things but well made and fortunately, he had underthings. He stepped into the water, not removing his straw hat.

"Why are you wearing that? You look silly!" Pantera said with a laugh and Grimm frowned. But Shiro responded before he could tell the little one he was being rude.

"I don't want a burn on my scalp. That's the worst." He said with a smile. He'd learned that the hard way, on the ship. That kind of burn itched and itched and he'd scratched himself almost bloody. The little boy looked a bit mystified, but he was clearly following after his uncle. His skin was a warm, sun-kissed shade. Grimmjow rumbled a chuckle and began showing him the basics of swimming.

Shiro got the hang of dog paddling immediately, but floating took longer. Part of it was the way Grimm's hands felt, as his master showed him how to stay straight and relax. It was hard to relax when those warm hands were on him and Shiro looked at the blue man through his lashes, wondering if he felt the tension too. From the warmth in those eyes he probably did, but he wouldn't show it in front of the boy. Then Shiro looked up and lost his grip on floating, dog paddling instead as the nurse walked up with a smile. She was carrying a sturdy basket with a handle over her arm.

"Lunch time young lord!" She said and Pantera shot out of the water with a squeal. Grimmjow and Shiro followed and she smiled, handing them light towels to dry themselves off. Shiro did before putting his clothing back on. Head burns were the worst, but he'd rather not collect them on the rest of his body either.

Lunch was very tasty. Sandwiches made out of heavy rye bread, stuffed with cured meat, something tangy that looked vegetative, and mustard. Shiro recognized the mustard and the bread but the rest of it was foreign so he decided to ask.

"What is it?" He said, pulling out a bit of the tangy stuff.

"Sauerkraut!" Pantera chirped and Shiro nodded. "The meat is pastrami! Want a dried apricot?" He offered and Shiro took it, chewing on the bit of fruit leather. "We have baby carrots too! An' some green stuff!"

"Dandelion greens." Grimmjow said easily. "Try putting them in your sandwich." He suggested and Pantera did that, stuffing the bread with green shoots. Shiro did the same and it did make the bitter greens far more palatable. "Everything a growing boy needs, right Pantera?"

"No!" He said indistinctly, his mouth full of food. "Needs chocolate!" He said, getting bits of food on the blanket. Grimmjow scowled at him, but not in a particularly angry way.

"No talking with your mouth full." He said sternly and the little boy nodded. "And don't be greedy. Chocolate is too expensive. The one I brought you was a war prize." He added and Pantera's eyes widened.

"Like Shiro?" He said innocently and Shiro almost choked on his sandwich. He hadn't thought of himself like that… Grimmjow laughed and ruffled the boy's hair.

"Close. But Shiro is a much better prize than a bit of chocolate." He said teasingly as he glanced over at his slave. Shiro met his eyes, feeling the heat between them, the sexual attraction. But Pantera just nodded.

"He's fun to play with." He said in an approving tone and Shiro smiled. That was sweet.

"Yes, he most definitely is." Grimmjow said in a warm, insinuating tone and Shiro felt himself going pink. He gave his lover a glare but the blue man just grinned. The innuendo went right over Pantera's head but the nurse giggled, to his embarrassment. "Well, we really should be getting back. You have lessons Pantera." Grimmjow said with regret and the little boy pouted.

"But you've been gone so long! Can't we take a break? We could go play in the orchard!" He begged and Grimmjow hesitated before caving in.

"You're right, I've been gone over a month. We can go play." He said and Pantera squealed in glee as the nurse just smiled. Grimmjow took the little boy's hand in his larger paw and they went to the orchard, Pantera skipping with happiness. Shiro walked behind with a smile, enjoying the sight. They really did look like father and son. Although that made him wonder what had happened to Pantera's real father. Perhaps he would ask someday, but not just yet. He was still learning about this place.

The answer to his question might be sensitive and he didn't want to cause Grimmjow any pain.

* * *

The next day, Grimmjow was woken to his manservant drawing back the curtains. Bright light hit him in the face, waking him in the most comfortable way possible.

"Starrk. Good morning." He said with a yawn and the older man flashed him a smile. Shiro rolled over with a sleepy protest, burying his face in the pillow. Grimmjow slipped his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing his eyes. He was entirely naked but that didn't bother him a bit. Starrk had seen every inch of him a thousand times over, it was part of a manservant's duties.

"Good morning Milord Wizard." Starrk said and Grimmjow scowled at him, slightly annoyed.

"Let me guess. The armsmen told you about how all the sea dogs insisted on calling me that?" He groused and Starrk laughed. "Well, don't start or I'll slap you."

"Of course sir." Starrk said agreeably. "Your usual bath?" He asked and Grimmjow nodded. One of the great things about being a wizard were all the luxuries involved. He'd managed to harness a minor fire sprite and it kept a great tank of water heated. Pumps and plumbing were known things, although retrofitting the castle had been a pain in the arse. Still, it was worth it. Now he had the kind of creature comforts that usually only Kings enjoyed. So did most of the staff at the castle, although several of the armsmen thought that bathing daily had to be unhealthy.

Leaving Shiro to his sleep – he wanted to talk to Starrk privately anyway – Grimmjow went with him to the bathroom. The bath was already drawn and steaming, since Starrk knew the odds of him turning it down were nearly negative. He settled into the water with a sigh and let his man tend to him. He didn't really need a manservant but it was a mark of the gentry to have one. It made for light duties for Starrk, but that was fine. He enjoyed just lazing around.

"I'll want you to train the lad." He said and Starrk gave a long suffering sigh as Grimmjow grinned. "Sorry to cut into your sleep time, but…"

"I know." Starrk said, lathering his hair before gently lowering him for a rinse. "Does he have his letters, at least?" He asked it like he thought there was no hope and Grimmjow snorted.

"He does, but only in his own tongue. However, learning to read a foreign language is actually easier than learning to speak it. He should do fine." He spoke from long experience. He'd had to master the trader's tongue and also two other languages besides. His old master had insisted. "What's on the agenda?" He would have detailed notes in his office but Starrk could give him a general overview.

"Well, the rents are due in a month." Starrk said and Grimmjow nodded. That meant he would have to go on a trip through his estates and at the same time, he would see to any cases of capital justice that had piled up. It wouldn't be anything too interesting – for a major problem the village headman would send an urgent message – but there might be a prisoner or two awaiting his signature on the execution writs. "And you got back just in time for the harvest sacrifice."

"Ah, joy." He sighed a little at that. Not that the ritual itself was arduous, he just had a few bad memories concerning it. It was done well before the harvest, to gain Odakka's favor and spare the crops from any unseasonal frosts. "Who will the 'victim' be this year?" He asked and Starrk shook his head with a smile.

"Well, Nel wanted to do it." He said cheerfully and Grimmjow growled. "It's a shame we can't allow it, I'm sure she'd have a wonderful time. It's going to be one of the girls from the village of Andero." The villages all fought to have the honor of providing the sacrificial maiden. They might not have if they'd seen what he had. "Their champion trounced the others in the toboggan race." That had been in the winter games the season before. Prizes were randomly assigned to each contest and Andero had gotten lucky this year.

"Good for them." He said without really feeling it. "Anything else? Any local scandals?" Grimmjow asked, just enjoying the heat of the water. There was no need to leave it too soon. Starrk was entertaining him with a story about the doings of one of the local midwives when they heard a shuffling from his bedroom.

"Grimmjow?" Shiro sounded slightly worried and Grimmjow pulled himself up. The water was starting to get cold anyway. He stepped out and let Starrk dry him off, calling to his lover.

"In here." He said and the door opened. Shiro looked around, seeming to be puzzled by the room. His eyes widened as he saw the tub full of bubbly water. Grimmjow used a special solution of essential oils and powder to make those bubbles. It wasn't magic, but his old master had taught him the ingredients. "Good morning. Want a bath?" He asked with a smile. Shiro hadn't bathed at all on the ship – sailors could be a smelly lot – but he'd cleaned himself off with a bucket of water at the villages and inns, so the lad was no stranger to cleanliness. The white man nodded.

"I would love a bath." He said with so much longing that Starrk laughed. Shiro blinked as he noticed the other man. A good manservant could fade into the walls and Starrk was very good at his job. "Who is… who are you?" He asked curiously but Grimmjow was the one to reply.

"He's Coyote Starrk. He prefers to be called Starrk." He answered and Shiro looked at him, his black and gold eyes questioning. "He's my manservant and he will be training you in your duties here." While sleeping with him was delightful, he expected a bit more of his pleasure slaves than just that. And having Starrk train him was a kind of gift, an investment in Shiro's future. If Grimmjow tired of him and decided to sell him, the pale slave would have a reasonably secure position with only gentle work. That was the kind of thing slaves dreamed of, when they weren't dreaming of being free. "Consider him your second master here." He said and Shiro swallowed before he nodded. For the first time he was looking a bit apprehensive but Grimmjow really didn't have time to sort it out. Starrk was good at dealing with new slaves, anyway. "I can dress myself. You take care of him." He said to his manservant and Starrk nodded.

"Yes sir." He said and Grimmjow let himself out, going to the wardrobe and smiling as he saw that Starrk had rather pointedly hung a shirt and pants combination in front of everything else. Shrugging to himself, he took it down and put it on the bed before getting his underclothes.

Starrk definitely had a better sense of style than he did. He would take his manservant's recommendation.

* * *

Shiro watched Grimmjow close the door and for the first time, he felt a bit lost.

He was a slave here. Until now, that hadn't felt real to him. Being Grimmjow's lover and… friend?... had been so nice that he hadn't really thought about it. Hadn't thought about what it might mean, being a slave. The priests kept slaves and they did all the dirty work, the things that were beneath even the novices. Disgusting things like cleaning out the latrines and handling sick livestock. Would he be expected to do that here?

"Come here Shiro." Starrk said and he went dutifully to the man's side. "See these? This is for the hot water and this is for the cold. You use them like this." He watched curiously as Starrk manipulated the knobs. "Does this feel good to you?" He asked and Shiro tested the water with his hand before nodding.

"It's fine." He said with a small smile and Starrk smiled back. Then he picked up a little box. It had been sitting on the edge of the tub.

"This is something Grimmjow made. It don't know all the ingredients but it's easy on the skin and very pleasant. You put in a spoonful." He opened the box and pulled out a spoon from inside. The powder went into the water and Shiro was surprised to see it bubble. "The bubbles are just for fun. Pantera loves them, you should see him in a bath." He sounded fond of the little boy and Shiro smiled at the thought.

"Pantera is a great kid." He said as he watched the bath fill up. "Is this for me?" He asked just to be sure and Starrk nodded. "Okay." He hesitated for a moment before disrobing. He was wearing his old white linen robe, he'd thrown it on when he'd realized Grimmjow wasn't in the room. Then he slipped into the bath and grabbed the soap, intent on giving himself a proper wash. Starrk sat beside the tub, resting an arm on the edge and Shiro glanced at him curiously. The other man seemed completely indifferent to his body, but he wasn't leaving him to wash alone. It was a bit odd.

"Now, Shiro. I will be training you to be a manservant like me. I'll also be teaching you to read, write and do basic sums." Starrk said and Shiro frowned, mildly insulted. He knew his sums! "If you work at it, you'll be a qualified manservant when I'm done. Then if the time comes when Grimmjow decides to sell you, you'll have a good set of skills beneath your belt. Slack off and the only skills you'll have are the ones in the bedroom."

"I'm not lazy!" Shiro protested, stung. He hadn't understood the word 'slack' but he'd gotten the gist. Starrk was speaking at an even pace and enunciating clearly, which helped his comprehension. "I have my sums." He knew that word from the ship, when Grimmjow was doing his accounts. "What is 'manservant'?" He asked, knowing he was mispronouncing the word. But he'd never heard it before. Starrk looked taken aback.

"You… how long have you been learning our language?" He asked and Shiro thought about it for a moment before deciding it had been around two weeks, maybe a bit less. He told Starrk that and his eyes widened slightly. "You are smart then. Good, this should be easy." He sounded very pleased and Shiro felt proud of himself. He'd thought he was doing a good job of learning to speak this tongue but he couldn't be sure. "A manservant helps his master. He draws a bath, helps him bathe, picks out his clothes. He runs errands and manages the other servants." He explained and Shiro nodded. "How hard it is depends on the master. Some masters keep their manservants very busy, others do not. But it is easy work and can be done even in old age. Manservants can be quite elderly." He said and Shiro nodded again, lathering his hair. He'd never heard the word 'elderly' before but he had the idea. "Now, being Grimmjow's manservant is very easy, so I'll have plenty of time to teach you. When you're done we'll start teaching you to read our language. The master said you know how to read in your own tongue?" He asked and Shiro nodded before dipping down into the water, rinsing his hair. Starrk waited until he was up again before speaking. "Good. We'll start with that."

"Yes Starrk." Shiro said obediently as he pulled himself out of the water. He didn't want to linger while the other man was waiting for him. He got out of the tub and grabbed a towel, noting again that Starrk seemed to be indifferent to his body. The other man was probably into girls, like most of the men in the world. Shiro suddenly wondered if he liked women and just as quickly decided he didn't. He hadn't been able to tell until Grimmjow released the geas, but the thought of touching a woman's breasts just didn't do anything for him. While the image of Grimmjow's chest… He pulled his mind away from that thought hastily before his body could do something embarrassing and pulled on the clothes Starrk had fetched for him. They were new but plain, simple workman's clothes.

"I'll take you to the tailor in the afternoon. As Grimmjow's pet, you'll be travelling with him. You'll need to be presentable in mixed company." Starrk said and then had to explain the term 'pet.' Shiro bit his lip as he got the gist. Was that all he was to the other man? "If it makes you feel better, Grimmjow likes you. I haven't seen him since… well. We don't talk about that." He said, looking as though he regretted saying anything. Shiro blinked at him and gave him a quizzical look but Starrk didn't expand on it, just opening the door. "Follow me. We'll work in the library."

"Okay." Shiro said, a slang term he'd picked up from the sailors. Starrk flashed him a smile and he followed the other man out. The library was extremely pleasant, full of the dusty scent of books and filled with windows to let the light in. Shiro and Starrk took a table beside one of those windows, looking out over the orchard. If he stood up, he could see the river. Shiro smiled as he paid attention to his lesson, concentrating on learning.

Even if he was a 'pet', he would learn everything he could.


End file.
